<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Heavenly by HarmoniHalo</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622838">Heavenly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniHalo/pseuds/HarmoniHalo'>HarmoniHalo</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Food Kink, Innuendo, M/M, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:40:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmoniHalo/pseuds/HarmoniHalo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which someone buys a super expensive cake for their best friend to partake in because they're nice, but also because said "best friend that I definitely dont have romantic or sexual feelings towards" moans when the food is really good. </p><p>That's gross and creepy Crowley.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heavenly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Silverware clinked against an empty dish before Aziraphale raised a napkin to his mouth, patting away a few small crumbs. </p><p> </p><p>"I was skeptical at first," he began, straightening himself in his chair. "But I'm very happy with my choice of ordering that pasta." </p><p> </p><p>Next to him, Crowley was circling a finger over the rim of his champagne glass, gazing in Aziraphale's direction but, for the moment, not focused on him. Luckily Aziraphale was so enamored with his food that he didn't notice his demonic friend staring back at him with each bite. That wasn't odd or anything, watching your best friend eat. Completely normal. Totally platonic. </p><p> </p><p>Another reason to wear the glasses. You can tell a lot about someone's intentions by their eyes. Though, Aziraphale seemed to be the only one who could tell what went on behind on the tinted lenses. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowley dear." </p><p> </p><p>Speak of the devil. </p><p> </p><p>"You seem a bit off. Was the food not to your liking?" Aziraphale asked, genuine concern dripping from every syllable. </p><p> </p><p>"Hmm? Aw, no no. It was fine. Don't really eat as much as you but it wasn't terrible," the demon smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "You're a glutton, angel." </p><p> </p><p>"Ah!" Aziraphale feigned shock at the mock insult. "How dare you associate me with such a sin, foul fiend!" He gave Crowley an incredulous look that made him sputter a laugh. "In all honesty though," Aziraphale continued, adjusting his jacket, "I couldn't eat another bite if I wanted to. Well, I suppose I could but..." He returned Crowley's smirk, "Gluttony is a terrible sin." </p><p> </p><p>Crowley leaned back a bit to notice the waiter coming to the table, holding a tray with a plate that had a spectacular silver goblet on it. "Well, you may want to indulge just a bit more."</p><p> </p><p> Aziraphale looked back at the demon, confused until the silver goblet was placed before him. His eyes went wide, a sliver of drool on the edge of his lips that he wiped away before it could trail down his chin, and his mouth went agape.</p><p> </p><p> "I..." he stuttered, "I didn't order this." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh, that's because I did. Friends give each other gifts, don't they?" The demon sneered, taking a sip of champagne. </p><p> </p><p>"You...?" Aziraphale was having a hard time finding words, still flabbergasted by the piece of culinary art that was in front of him but now because of Crowley's act of kindness. An act of kindness that had no personal gain to the demon. He almost couldn't believe it. "Th-thank you…" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley shrugged. "Well go ahead. It's waiting for you." </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale nodded, his eyes still nearly bugged out of his skull. He grabbed a hold of the spoon. The piece in the silver goblet was a chocolate cake topped with truffles, vanilla bean ice cream at the bottom of the cup. And something shiny was at the top.</p><p> </p><p>"Crowley...is this?" </p><p> </p><p>"Gold leaf." </p><p> </p><p>"Oh. I thought so. That's odd. Are they so indulgent that they eat gold?" </p><p> </p><p>"Well, if they have £1,000 just laying around." </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale somehow looked even more shocked. "£1,000?!?" </p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked on bemused. "You better eat every bite, angel. Put that gold to good use." </p><p> </p><p>The angel audibly gulped and grabbed a hold of the spoon. Something just felt wrong about eating this. Something so expensive but beautifully crafted didn't deserve to be eaten. However, it is just food. And food is made to be eaten and enjoyed. </p><p> </p><p>With a look of resignation, Aziraphale took a small bite of the cake. The moment it hit his tongue he felt a shiver run through him. It was delicious. Not just delicious even, that was selling it short. It was the best chocolate cake he had ever eaten, which was many, many cakes. Aziraphale had tasted good food before, but by God...it was indescribable. He let out a soft sound, a little hum, a teeny tiny moan. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley's hands gripped at the seat of his chair. "How is it?" </p><p> </p><p>"Fantastic...no, spectacular, erm, breath taking," Aziraphale panted out, his eyelids fluttering. "What's the phrase? Hmm, oh. I feel like I've died and gone to Heaven?" The angel pondered the statement for a moment. </p><p>"Really. That's supposed to be a good thing?" </p><p> </p><p>"Don't really see the big hooha about it, myself," Crowley chided. </p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gave him a scolding look before taking another bite, this time of the vanilla bean ice cream at the bottom of the goblet. His eyes closed slowly and the deliberately, toes curled in his loafers, and a soft sigh escaped him. The texture was so creamy but still firm and cold. The vanilla wasn't overbearing, just the right amount of sweetness. When his eyes opened again, they were nearly rolled back inside his skull. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley looked on, becoming more and more unnerved at the sight. Which was surprising, considering his reasoning for buying the Little Death Cake. The actual name of the dish. </p><p> </p><p>Crowley had the idea of doing something, erm, nice, for his friend for awhile. And the angel did enjoy food. And books. But determining what book to buy was difficult, since Aziraphale had such a collection and the demon would hate to just bring him a repeat copy. Aziraphale probably wouldn't mind and still appreciate the gesture, but Crowley would. There was more variety with food. And Aziraphale's favorite kind of food was sweets. </p><p>But why the Little Death and not just some crepes? </p><p> </p><p>An ulterior motive. </p><p> </p><p>It didn't start out that way. Crowley saw pictures of the cake. It looked delectable despite the outrageous price (which wasn't really a concern for him, obviously) but not exactly one of Aziraphale's favorite flavors. But upon reading the reviews and having one patron refer to it as "an orgasm in a silver goblet", his interest was peaked. </p><p> </p><p>Unbeknownst to Aziraphale, hopefully, Crowley had been having some not-so-virtuous thoughts and feelings about his best friend. Technically, he should be having not-so-virtuous thoughts all the time, being a demon and all, but it never felt right harboring such thoughts about Aziraphale. Not just because he was an angel, but also because of how close they were as friends. And if Aziraphale caught wind of this, Crowley imagined the worst. Something about not being able to talk to Aziraphale or have dinner with Aziraphale, or just be with Aziraphale gave him a burning pain in his chest. </p><p> </p><p>It was one thing if the feelings weren't reciprocated. It was another thing entirely if it ruined their friendship.</p><p> </p><p>So, this was the compromise, as disturbing as it may seem. Aziraphale gets to eat a decadent dessert under the assumption that Crowley was just doing something nice for him and Crowley gets to enjoy seeing his friend happy, and incredibly aroused, by food.</p><p> </p><p>"How's the ice cream?" Crowley eventually asked, his tone a bit shaky. </p><p> </p><p>"Mmm," Aziraphale was licking his spoon, deliberately working his tongue over it in an almost erotic fashion. Or at least from Crowley's perspective. He's an angel, there's no way he was doing that on purpose. The demon just had his mind in the gutter, as per usual.</p><p> </p><p>That was until the angel took another bite of the ice cream, probably so he could describe it better and the smallest, teeniest, sliver of vanilla bean frozen dessert dripped from his lips and down his chin. So casually. Mixing that display with another drawn out and sinful moan from him and--</p><p> </p><p>Crowley's mind was no longer in the gutter, it covered with leafs and other rubbish in the same gutter in such an extreme way that could never ever be clean again.  He asked for this. He planned  this.  </p><p> </p><p>As the human vernacular went, he could dish it but he couldn't take it. </p><p> </p><p>The demon heard himself gulp and wiggled uncomfortably in his chair. And for once in his existence, he questioned his affinity for tight pants that left nothing to the imagination. </p><p> </p><p>"The ice cream..." Aziraphale spoke up again in a wistful tone, "Is unbelievably creamy and the perfect temperature." His baby blue eyes sparkled with ecstacy and that lone droplet of vanilla cream was still ever so present on his chin. And his expression combined with that...</p><p> </p><p>"Angel, you've got a...a..." Crowley sputtered, failing spectacularly at trying to form words. "Little bit of..." </p><p> </p><p>"Hmm?" Aziraphale snapped out of his dreamy state to look back at his demonic friend. "What's wrong?" </p><p> </p><p>Without thinking, Crowley grabbed a napkin and leaned in close to wipe the angel's chin with a quaking hand. Bad idea. Very bad idea. </p><p> </p><p>In the split second he was in Aziraphale's space, he caught the sweet scent that the angel usually held mixed in with the smell of the Little Death Cake. It was deadly combination that almost made him drool. And in the new position, his leg rubbed against the tent in his pants and made him flinch. </p><p> </p><p>"There-!" Crowley squeaked out. "Good n' clean-!" </p><p> </p><p>With a confused look, Aziraphale patted his chin. "Thank you." </p><p> </p><p>The demon nodded, realizing that his actions had placed him smack dab in his own personal hell. Or Heaven. Fuck.</p><p> </p><p>And Aziraphale still hadn't finished the dish. Maybe things would calm down now that he knew what to expect. The cake couldn't be that good, honestly. </p><p> </p><p>"Probably should take a bite with everything now, hmm?" Aziraphale chirped excitedly, wiggling in his chair, completely innocent and oblivious. "I have a habit of dissecting my food, but I'm sure you're meant to taste everything together." He pushed the spoon back into the cake, collecting the truffles, the chocolate cake and the vanilla bean ice cream in one fell swoop.</p><p> </p><p>Crowley felt his body tense. </p><p> </p><p>Oh no. </p><p>Oh god no.</p><p>Oh fuck no.</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale gracefully pushed the spoon past his lips, his whole body shivering. His eyebrows curved upwards, his eyelids fluttered, his feet kicked the floor. The hand he had politely placed on the table, grabbed desperately at the table cloth. And to top it all off, a sharp mewl escaped him followed by soft panting. </p><p> </p><p>"Oh...mercy..." Aziraphale placed the spoon on the table, his hand shaking. He glanced up at Crowley, not knowing that his dinner date was seconds away from discorperating. </p><p> </p><p>"Crowley, dear?" </p><p> </p><p>"Mmhmm??" </p><p> </p><p>"Everything alright? You seem a bit..."</p><p> </p><p>"Off?!" Crowley responded hastily, his hands holding his legs together. If he was anymore tense he could be mistaken for a statue. "No, no, I'm, pfffft fine!" Without thinking, he grabbed the champagne fluke and downed the whole glass, Aziraphale looking on in confusion and slight horror. </p><p> </p><p>"Ya know, I feel like I need a drink, and not something like this, something strong, something to make me sleep a decade or two maybe, yeah!"</p><p> </p><p>"Okay, well let me walk you home or something..." </p><p> </p><p>"I'm fine, Zira." Crowley wobbled as he stood up from his chair. "Thank you for the food and the company as always, but I shouldn't overstay my welcome." He started to walk away, taking a step forward before noticing the God-forsaken "orgasm in a goblet" out the corner of his eye. </p><p> </p><p>Couldn't hurt to try.</p><p> </p><p>Lacking all the grace and poise of his angelic friend, he leaned in to take a bite of it. </p><p>Wasn't terrible. Definitely wasn't worth the money. Though it didn't stop him from making the smallest, contented moan. </p><p> </p><p>"Pretty nice." Then he dropped the spoon against the plate and walked off and away from the table.</p><p> </p><p>It was a shame Crowley walked away and didn't turn back. If he had bothered, he would've been able to see a flustered and flushed angel, still as a statue. Red blush up to the tips of his ears. Gripping the sides of his chair and wondering to himself why his trousers were a bit tighter than earlier.</p><p> </p><p>But there was always next time, right?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I call this guerrilla writing. I just go for it and hope.it doesnt suck. <br/>There may be a squeakal to this if I can help it. (That one would be E rated because masturbation.) <br/> How does one tag stuff. Honestly</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>